


Awaken, Slumbering Fool

by ExistentialFish



Series: Helsknight Dump [1]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Gen, Hels grumpily doing a good thing, Hels is kind of edgy, Hels said 'near death experience character growth? no thanks', lets be honest, minecraft personas ONLY, sleeping curse for wels I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25080229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExistentialFish/pseuds/ExistentialFish
Summary: What was Helsknight up to while Wels was sleeping for months? And why did Wels miraculously wake up when he did?Or- Welsknight is under a sleeping spell, and Hels has no choice but to help him if he doesn't want to meet the same fate.
Series: Helsknight Dump [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816396
Comments: 7
Kudos: 90





	Awaken, Slumbering Fool

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god, okay. First fic I'm putting here, and on top of that I'm semi new to the fandom, so sorry for anything that's out of place! I'm usually not much a participator in fandoms, but I'll admit that Helsknight's debut and the fandom's hype around him really drew me in. I plan to write a couple more oneshots and maybe expand to some hermits other than Wels (/Hels) if I ever catch up, so if you have any input on tweaking Hels's character I'd be very glad to hear it.

Sometimes I wonder about my counterpart. Or, more specifically, how he has managed to live this this long. He’s such a dense fool, it’s a wonder he, and unfortunately by extension, I, still exist. He is not such a terrible fighter or builder, though I am of course superior in both regards, and I will admit he can be resourceful when the need arises. But in terms of intelligence, he leaves much to be desired. I mean honestly, who doesn’t notice a sleeping curse being placed on himself  
  
I found it amusing at first, glimpsing his slumbering body through the viewing portal. It was quite the ego boost, getting to gloat over Welsknight’s obvious weakness in my mind. Then it started, the dreaded consequences his negligence was bound to have on my own body. I froze when it happened, for it was only midday, and yet a deep yawn bubbled up from my chest as I set off to begin my training, and a peculiar tiredness settled over my body.  
  
I should have seen it coming. After all, my very existence relies on his. He is a part of me, and I am a part of him. I gain my energy through his anger and pride, it fuels me, drives me. So it’s only natural that any major change to his existence must, in some small way or another, affect me as well. Our fates are infuriatingly intertwined. So yes, perhaps I should have predicted the onset of drowsy limbs and tired eyes. Though truth be told, I had expected some cure to be administered to him long before my own body ever caught on to the sleeping state which encroached on it.  
  
I worried little. That damned knight may have fallen prey to a sleeping curse with no fight, but I would not do the same. No matter how the tiredness dragged at me, or how my energy bled dry, cut off from its source, I would not falter. I would not succumb like he had. We may have been tied together, but I am my own man. I had nothing to fear, I would never fall like him.  
  
And in any case, those pesky “friends” of his would wake the slumbering knight long before my body felt the true struggles cursed upon it.  
\---  
Days of drowsiness turned into weeks of sluggishness, and yet no one appeared to visit my sleeping counterpart. As those days dragged on, I began to feel a rare emotion within myself – concern. With each passing day it got more difficult to brush aside the sleepiness so nonchalantly. It had even started to affect my training, a fact which only served to raise my irritation towards Welsknight’s foolish actions, an irritation which was only rivaled by my annoyance towards his happy go lucky comrades. They were certainly taking their time finding and waking my foolish counterpart. The sooner they found him, the sooner they could gather what was needed to break his curse, and the sooner that happened the sooner I, too, could be free of this affliction.  
  
Yet those weeks dragged into months and… no one ever came. Instead, the rest of those dimwits had the gal to not only go about their day normally, but also to prepare to pack up and say goodbye to the homes they had built. This, I was certain, was when they would finally take note of his absence in their ranks. This was when my pesky little problem would be solved. The drowsiness would be an irritating little problem for a few more days, but I would never have need to fight off its effects in full. After all, that blasted fool had his “friends” around to come to his aid. They would awaken him, and both he and I and our respective peers would all move on to claim the next land as our own.  
  
So strangely, it came as a surprise to find them all pack up their things and leave through a portal, together, without so much as a glance toward his home. It was only then, as my fellow citizens of Hels prepared to follow them through a portal of our own that I realized how big of problem this had become. I made no attempt to go through the portal myself. I’m not stupid after all, I knew there was no point in moving on to the next land. No, my body would only continue to grow weaker and weaker as I succumbed to sleep, and I refused to give the others the satisfaction of watching the mighty Helsknight fall.  
  
I’ve never liked my fellows very much, and cared little for their company. Even still, when only I remained, our home felt lonely and empty.  
  
Not long after the others left, the barriers between my world and the overworld began to deteriorate. This realm was no longer Hermitcraft and thus no longer complied to its rules, or its necessity of keeping our two kinds separate. Where before I could do no more than snatch an occasional item from Welsknight’s chests to puzzle and annoy him, I could now step through into the world myself and manipulate it just as easily as I could mine. I imagine under different circumstances I would have been thrilled to explore and conquer this new land. Perhaps I would have stopped to enjoy feeling the warmth of a sun or the brush of cool air on my skin for the first time in my life. Maybe I would have wondered at the range of vibrant colors surrounding me, or the freedom to cause whatever mayhem my chaotic little heart desired. These days, however, as I only grew more weary with every passing day, and each breath felt more like a chore than a privilege, I had no room in my mind to desire or appreciate such trivial things. All I truly wanted was to lay down and rest my weary body for a little while, which irked me to no end. I had never tolerated personal weakness before, and I had no plans to start just for the sake of my other’s mistakes.  
  
Despite my protesting muscles, I moved myself through the landscape to my counterpart’s side. He looked so calm, so deeply at peace. It curled my lip with contempt, gazing on the proof of his failure. That weakling of a man was the sole reason I had been brought to such a low, and was the harbinger of my impending demise. I would not fall to the talons of rest as he had, but if I had any hope of returning to my former strength I would have to accept a role that turned my stomach with loathing. I would have to play hero, and rescue my counterpart from his own doom.  
  
I doubted it would work but, seeing as none of his beloved hermits had shown the courtesy of at least trying, I roughly shook him. He gave no reaction, not even a grimace or a grumble. Damned fool. Well then, I had no choice. I would have to brew a potion to wake the slumbering fool.  
  
I set off at the break of dawn. I knew of a cure already and the ingredients I would need, so at least there was no need for tedious toiling over dusty tomes searching for an answer to my problems. The journey itself however would be treacherous, the potion’s recipe demanding ingredients from several risky foes. Before this I would not have hesitated, for my blade is sharp and my determination unfaltering. But this land no longer followed the rules I was familiar with, and I could not be certain I would respawn should I perish on an enemy’s blade. Death could now prove as final for me as the very unending sleep I was working to avoid.  
  
I traveled across the abandoned land, caution a tool I employed as often as my blade, though I cringed to show such cowardice in the face of danger. I knew my role in the world had not yet been played out, and I would refuse to disappear before I achieved the recognition I deserved. If I needed to act cowardly to open that path for myself once more, then so be it.  
  
First I traversed the overworld, gathering sugar and spiders eyes, two ingredients that luckily posed little threat to me. As I went I also struck down any witch I came across on the off chance one carried the very potion I needed, though that chance was so slim it hurt.  
  
Next came the nether, so similar to my home and yet so different. The blazes and ghasts there posed more danger to me than the foes in the realm above had, but I wrenched the powder and tears I needed from the grasp of death with the same vigor with which I wrenched myself from the grasp of sleep each day. Then came my biggest threat, as the potion called for dust made of ground whither bones.  
  
Though retrieving the skulls needed to create the beast was a perilous task, the whither itself was surprisingly less daunting. My exhausted body begged me for rest, and though it served me well in my prior fights, I knew I could only ask so much of a body deprived of rest for so long. I employed the cowardly tactics I had scoffed at many times before, which I would never have used had I not been on the brink of collapse. After all, a real knight should face his foe head on and not have to rely on deep tunnels and repetitive retreats to emerge victorious. Regardless of the method, the result was blessedly the same, and soon enough I had ground the whither bones into the dust I needed to complete the potion.  
  
I returned to the overworld to brew the potion, a feat which took hours, a time in which I was constantly fighting darkness out of my vision, my whole body seeming to tremble from the effort it took when I finally stood. I held up the bottle of glistening gold liquid, a thrill of pride shooting through me at having finally snagged victory against the odds. I clung to that childish glee to keep myself awake and coherent as I stumbled from my shelter through the strange town towards that impostor knight’s abode. Alas, glee could keep me awake, but not alert. My sleepy shuffle faltered, the toe of my boot catching in a crevice. Just like that I was falling. Down and down and…  
  
The impact didn't hurt. What did hurt however was the sight of the glass bottle shattering as it hit the ground, golden elixir soaking into the dirt, taking my last hopes along with it.  
  
I didn't bother rising. Instead, I lay still on my stomach, lacking the energy and motivation to even roll over. I wanted to get up so badly. I wanted to keep fighting. I wanted to _win_. But even I, as prideful as I am, must admit defeat in the face of impossible odds. The relief my whole being felt at this brief moment of immobility confirmed I did not have it in me to go through all of that a second time. I am brash, not blind. There was no way I could gather even the first two ingredients before sleep consumed me.  
  
Weariness weighed heavy on my bones, but heavier still on my mind. How had I come to be here, despite all my hard work? Was all my training worth nothing? Were my most valiant efforts always fated to fail, victim to my counterpart’s every whim? From the first moment of my existence I had been working so hard. Had it even been worth it? I spent so long straining to become stronger, to become untouchable. I made every sacrifice my destiny demanded of me. I had always known the path I embarked on would never leave me room for happiness or rest, or the frivolity of friendship. I had been so sure that it would be worth it. I thought in the end I would be proud of the strength I had accumulated, that I would die with no regrets. But power, in the end, did not protect me. Distance never hindered me, but although I knew I never grew close enough to anyone to die with a knife in my back, I also knew no one would mourn for me, or miss me, or spare me so much as a passing thought. All my strength and accomplishments would be forgotten. _I_ would be forgotten.  
  
Forgotten… I am – I am scared to be forgotten. Fear is a weakness, and I have never allowed myself weaknesses. I have been merciless in tearing out their roots from my body and mind. Yet now, in my final moments of sentience, as my eyelids grew heavy, fear haunted me. I felt no pride in the life I had forged, but rather an overwhelming sense of terror. I am scared, I realized. Scared to fall asleep into a darkness I know I will never wake from. Scared to be lost, to lose myself, to have left such an insignificant mark. Scared to admit to myself that I-  
  
Of all the fears that had been swirling in my sleep-addled mind, fear of the monsters lurking in the dark did not occur to me until I heard them approaching. I heard it then, through what felt like cotton – a shuffle of rotting feet, the clanking of dry bones, the snicker of a long nosed hag...  
  
The hag. A _witch._  
  
A thought stuck itself in my mind, of a hope so slim I knew it would be pointless to pursue. But Helsknight had never been, and never will be, one to go down without a fight.  
  
I lurched sluggishly to my feet and drew my blade, which felt so much heavier in my hand than it ever had before. My vision swam as I fought to remain upright and to keep my eyes open, peering into the dim light. There, at the edge of the light. Never before had I been so glad to see such an ugly face.  
  
I raised my sword, my entire body trembling with the effort, and charged. Poison soaked into my bloodstream and shards of glass bottles bit at my skin, but so exhausted was I that I barely registered it. Thrice I swung my sword, and there must have been desperation fueling my strikes for the witch fell dead before me. I dropped to my knees and rummaged through the pockets of her robe one by one, my heart sinking nearly as steadily as my eyelids with each empty or useless bottle I found until – there!  
  
My pulse thundered in my ears as I raised the glowing golden bottle to the torchlight. I laughed aloud, a delirious noise that bit through the relative quiet of the night. I staggered back to my feet, knowing it would soon draw more beasts to my location, cradling the bottle in my hands. What unbelievable luck!  
  
New energy thrummed through my weary bones, just enough to keep me going through the night as I fought my way to Welsknight’s doorstep. I slammed the door behind me, rushed through the house on shaking legs, and dropped to my knees by his bedside. I uncapped the bottle, pried open my counterpart's mouth, and poured the elixir in, taking moderate care to make sure he didn't choke – though what an amusing sight that would be. By the time he began to stir dawn had broken, sunlight streaming in through his windows from a brilliant sunrise. It was as if the world had been waiting to welcome this idiot back to the land of the waking.  
  
Darkness encroached on my vision as I hastily rose and steered myself out of the house and towards the portal the others had gone through. My body still ached from exhaustion, but I could feel the magical tendrils of the drowsiness fading away, leaving behind only the natural tiredness of a difficult journey.  
  
I paused briefly to glance back the way I had come. I cared very little whether the fool found his way to the next season or if he stayed stuck here, nothing more than a source for my own drive. Though if he did ever cross my path again, I swore I would take vengeance on him for nearly cutting my tale short with his endless stupidity. Someday, I would emerge from Hels and be victorious, and all the world would bow down in the face of a true, unstoppable power. Helsknight would never be vanquished.  
  
I turned back around, stepped through the portal into the new Hels, and began my quest for victory once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you have any input - whether it's input on the fic, on the character, or on anything at all, I'd love to hear from you!


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